How We Treat Each Other Matters

A precious little girl lies sleeping

On my shoulder, smiling at me

She loves me so, her eyes

Twinkle when I enter a room

As she runs to me, elated

Eager to hug and kiss me,

Tell me sweetly about her day.

The way she treats me is

A reflection of the immense love

In her heart, of her joy

at being my daughter and friend.

How we treat each other matters.

It sets the stage for years

To come, it establishes the tone.

* * *

When I think of the waning

Years of my marriage, I wonder

How did it come to this?

When did we start blaming the

Other for our own life disappointments?

We no longer treated each other

With tenderness, consideration and sweet anticipation.

We began to see each other

As co-workers or competitors over the

Limited resources of time and money.

We even wrestled over professional success.

* * *

With time and distance, we’ve progressed.

This week the kids had half-days.

We each gave what we had

Me: the space.  Him: the time.

Tuesday, while hosting a play date,

He cleaned my house, as only

He could, it sparkled and shone.

Today, pumpkins were decorated and hot

Tea was waiting in the teapot.

We now smile, hug, and kiss.

Maybe not with Layla’s ardent passion

But with affection and sincere appreciation.

Divorce has reconfigured our family ways.

We treat each other kindly now.

And with little eyes and ears

Around us, that’s a tremendous feat.

How we treat each other matters.

It sets the stage for years

To come, it establishes the tone.

* * * * * * * *

It has been such a treat to participate recently in Six Word Fridays.  I now look forward to getting the topic (treat) all week and I rush to see what others have penned.  It’s fascinating to see where my brain goes on a certain idea and then read other poems that have interpreted the concept in a whole different way.  I also love the community of bloggers that has formed around this ritual and appreciate their comments and support for my fledging poetic efforts.

Every Girl’s Crazy ‘Bout a Sharp Dressed Man

Gee, I wonder what he is going as for Halloween?  I am still tying his shoes and now I have to tie his tie?

The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far from the Tree

This reminds me of when I was a kid and we would go fishing in the Truckee River and I would hold the fishing pole in between my toes while reading a book.  Or the time that my parents did a reading intervention with me and sent me to Camp Harmony where they took my books away and made me socialize with other kids.

I am very grateful to Jeff Kinney, the author of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid novels, for finally giving Jonah the inspiration to read on his own.

Getting by with a Little Help from my Friend

Tobey and Jonah this summer at his family's lake cabin

Have you ever had a moment where appreciation just swells up in your heart and makes you momentarily float with happiness?  Well, I had one of those moments yesterday.  I was waiting at the children’s hospital while my eight-year-old son Jonah was in surgery.  He was having a hernia operation, which according to the doctors and many of my friends who have had it, is really a minor procedure.  However, I must admit that I was feeling nervous, and a little lonely by myself in the family waiting room.  One little girl had five adults and her sister waiting for her.  Most of the other parents came together as couples.  There was one young woman waiting by herself for her son, who wasn’t even walking yet.  I kept smiling at her, especially after she got tears in her eyes when the doctor told her that he came through the surgery fine.  My feeling was that at a moment in which you face the possible mortality of your child, whom you love more than life itself, you need some moral support, a little love and tenderness. Read the rest of this entry »

For the Record I Love Him

For the record I love him

I even love us still, yet

Our us has changed, morphed into

Something different, something sweet, yet muted

Calm, cool, collected, which we never

Were.  We were drama, passion, fire

And now we’re mellow and peaceful

At least most of the time.

That’s what we need to be,

For the kids and for us.

And for the record because someday

They will look back and see

That we did what we could.

And what we thought was best.

For the record I love us

In fact, maybe even more now.

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My first poem.  Six Word Fridays made me do it.

Is there anything that you would like to share for the record?